Civil Blood_The Vampire Rights Trial that Changed a Nation

by Chris Hepler

  "What would convince you?"

  "Hand me your gun."

  My eyes narrow.

  "Okay, then," she says. "We understand each other. Can I go?"

  I haven't gotten what I want, but that's not her fault. I might have one last card to play. I open the car door. "Before you do that, I would like to attempt to do you another favor."

  That makes her indignant. After a little fumbling, she exits the car as well. I hold up a hand, and she keeps her distance. Without taking my eyes off her, I feel around in the rear wheel wells. The gun stays in my pocket, in my other hand.

  "What are you doing?" she asks.

  "My former colleagues are predictable." My fingers find a bump, and I pry it free. If it had been my car they were after, Yarborough might have mixed up his usual hiding spot. For Ulan, he has no need—what's the likelihood she'd search for something like this?

  I present the little plastic-and-electronic disk to her. It has little grime on it—it's been placed recently. Jessica holds it in her hand and stares at it like she's been given a human tongue.

  "Is this what I think it is?"

  "The price of going public. The F-prots want to follow you home," I say. "And there, they would find vipes."

  It falls from her hands, and I think at first, she's recoiling from it, but when it bounces on the asphalt, Ulan crushes it with her heel. The little bug shatters. She grinds her shoe against the electronic wafers that emerge, her expression that of a mother tiger that has scented man. She looks around, as if whoever planted it might still be loitering.

  I rub it in by mistake. "If you want to live in psycho-land, there's always room for more."

  "I don't want to hear it," she says dangerously. "You've made your point."

  "I didn't fake it, if you're thinking that," I try. "If you went to your car at lunch, they probably put eyes on you then and planted it."

  "I don't want explanations. I want you to get the smug look off your face. At this point, I wouldn't put anything past you."

  "I guess we won't talk again," I say, but I can't just leave without trying, one last time. "I'm sorry, Jess. I didn’t come to disturb you."

  "I know," she mutters. "You're just too good at it."

  38 - TRANSCRIPT

  From Syndicated Linkstorm Talkcast "It Burns," with Roger Burns

  September 17th, 9:00 p.m.

  BURNS: Good evening from the United States of Transylvania. Let's get to business because what's going on in this country is beyond the pale. I'm speaking, of course, of the testimony today in the court case of Lorenz v. BRHI, in which we learned some important facts. On this show, facts matter because they're how you present reality. It's the other sides, the dinoparties and the heartbrained left, that distort and lie to scare and control people. Our linkstorm is how you fight against that. People come up to me saying, "Roge, Roge, you gotta speak out about the undead. You gotta warn people," and I must correct them. These people, vampires, they're not actually dead. They're different from what you see in the movies and TV.

  See, I make that correction because the reality is even worse.

  You know the drill by now: every time I say a keyphrase, a link will flash in the stream. Let's go.

  "VIHPS is a disease," say the heartbrainers. No. The flu is a disease. This is a plague, and like the plague, it's not going to stop until there are millions of dead in the gutters of America and all across the world. Why? Math. These vampire people, we don't know how many of them there really are. It could be hundreds. It could be tens of thousands. "So what?" you say. There's 400 million Americans. That's a drop in the bucket. No, it's not. It's not because every single one of them is driven to communicate their disease at least once a week or so. This isn't a disease that can be isolated. It will be spread deliberately, and it won't kill its host. That means the original vampire, and every single person they bite, are all going to keep infecting and infecting, until everyone on Earth has the disease, and then they'll have to turn on each other. Or—and this is the rosy scenario—the vampires choose to kill their victims instead. One a week per vampire. That is the rate they need to feed. Those are the facts Lorenz's expert witness brought out today.

  So, what do you call that if you're a normal human being? You call it a war. This is a war on blood. We didn't start it, but we'll finish it, and that is the mentality the judge must have, for the good of the species. Because if they give the other side even an ounce of credibility, they are idiots. I can knock down the arguments against it one by one or all together. Okay, I'm taking your calls. What vampire-coddling firehose of stupid have you heard from your Solar Citizen friends? Hello, caller one, what's your name?

  LILAH: Lilah.

  BURNS: Lilah, you are on like a light switch. Tell me how the stupid burns.

  LILAH: Hi, Roge, I saw a bumper sticker saying, "if corporations are people, why aren't vampires?" What do you have to say to that?

  BURNS: Well, first you're getting your political philosophy from something you see in traffic.

  LILAH: Oh, God, not me. That's not my car.

  BURNS: Okay, but let's address it, though. A corporation is a legal entity. That's the law of the land. But more to the point, a corporation is responsible to someone: its shareholders. Human beings consciously chose to create the corporation or invest in the corporation to advance their own interests. A vampire has none of that. The only master a vampire serves is its thirst for human blood. Normal hunger, normal thirst, self-preservation, all basic human drives take a back seat, all right?

  But here's what the apologists don't get. There's a key philosophical point here. Crimes are voluntary actions. If you make the choice to shoot someone in the head, premeditated murder, you just threw away your right to freedom or life… whichever, based on what penalty you get and what state you're in. That's why educated people like in the Freedom Forever Party say that the death penalty isn't murder; it's justice. It's the killer's own choices that get him convicted and snuffed. It's acknowledging that free will and responsibility exist.

  We're going to go to another caller now. You are on the air. Tell me how the stupid burns.

  BRAD: Brad here. I want to address the one I hear all the time. My mom keeps telling me that BRHI's claim is ridiculous. She's like, "A disease doesn't change people. You can't lock someone up without violating their civil rights." I don't know about that—

  BURNS: Glad you brought it up, Brad. "It's absurd." I've been hearing it all week. "Taking away someone's civil rights because they have a disease is absurd." Bull pucky. This isn't the flu we're talking about here, or even pre-vaccine Ebola, and believe me, if it were Ebola, we'd quarantine them. Nothing absurd about that. This virus, it alters human DNA into a biological killing machine. And we take away people's rights to liberty and the pursuit of happiness all the freaking time. It's called jail. You're taking murderers, which is what these vampires are, and stripping the right to walk free from them.

  BRAD: I said that, and she's like, "innocent until proven guilty. That's how we do things."

  BURNS: That's wrong. It's a fair point, but it's wrong. For starters, I have trouble believing some guy addicted to human blood isn't going to have some of it on his hands, but let's say that mythical beast exists. Take the lib-brat claim, "If you can't pin a murder on them, if they just infect, and it's all consensual, you can't lock them up."

  BRAD: Exactly. Suppose they said there's no legal whatsitcalled, prior case. Precedent.

  BURNS: You tell them there is. It's called Kelly v. Seven Star Health and Hospice. Twenty years back, this woman, Moira Kelly, was infected with HIV and syphilis. You would think after she'd gotten one of them she'd be more careful, but she wasn't. She was a sex addict—seriously, she was clinically diagnosed—and they locked her up in a mental ward. She sued, saying she couldn't be confined indefinitely. And in the trial, the hospital said very simply, if they let her out, there was no doubt in their minds—none—that she’d infect people. She was a danger to herself
and others, just like these vampires. And the court ruled in favor of the hospital. So, no precedent? Bovine fertilizer.

  BRAD: Thanks, man. I'm out.

  BURNS: Next caller, tell me your name and how the stupid burns.

  UMBERTO: Yes, I am Umberto, and I’m wondering why no one has called this virus God-related yet.

  BURNS: What, you mean like a punishment wrought by God?

  UMBERTO: Yes. If you look at the advantages a vampire has, there are many. There is strength, there is resistance to wounding and disease. But if you look at all the other viruses we know throughout history, none is so advantageous so fast.

  BURNS: I hear what you’re saying, but how does that jibe with punishment?

  UMBERTO: It's like in movies, where there are superheroes made by mutation. That would never happen. Mutation is tiny little things like eye color or allergies, almost never beneficial. But this virus, it is so magical, you cannot help but see the hand of God in it.

  BURNS: Yeah, I’ve wondered that myself. I mean, the atheists have lost all credibility ever since qi hit the big time. You just can't explain these miracles we’re starting to see every day. And now, of course, it stands to reason that if you’re going to get good stuff like qi infusions to slow bleeding, you’re also going to get the bad. I mean all the bad: black magic, agents of the Adversary running around, end times and all that.

  UMBERTO: Keep your eyes open, my friend. And remember, it is no crime to demonize one who is an actual demon.

  BURNS: Guess we’re back to bumper stickers. Next caller, you're on the air.

  JANIS: Yeah, Roger, my name's Janis, and I've been listening to your show, and you serve up the biggest dose of stupid on the air.

  BURNS: Gee, never heard that one before. Get to your point, please.

  JANIS: You've been inciting bloodshed for a week now. You can't just yell into the megaphone of talkcasts and say, "we're at war with the infected." What about that case in North Carolina? Ten people grabbed a fifty-two-year-old man and lynched him.

  BURNS: Miss, I was not one of those people.

  JANIS: They lynched him! And you helped, didn't you?

  BURNS: No, I did not.

  JANIS: You put it in their mind. You legitimized it.

  BURNS: If you're going to confuse someone talking about an action with the people doing that action, you have no concept of responsibility.

  JANIS: Are you going to denounce what they did?

  BURNS: I don't know the facts of the case.

  JANIS: You're not even going to come out against lynching?

  BURNS: I am saying, if he were attempting to assault them or drink their blood, then it's entirely possible it was an act of self-defense.

  JANIS: It was a mob of ten people!

  BURNS: There were ten people because he could've dead-lifted nine of them.

  JANIS: You're not denouncing it at all. You're encouraging it.

  BURNS: I am saying we have a justice system so we don't rush to conclusions.

  JANIS: That man was a father, a husband. And if Lorenz loses, it's going to be open season. You will see mobs in every state, in every city.

  BURNS: We can hope. Good night, Janis.

  39 - MORGAN

  September 18th

  I'm trying to be gentlemanly, but when I run my tongue over Infinity's ankle, it's hard to stay impersonal. She's in the bathtub without a drop of water to be seen, dressed down to a T-shirt and underwear so as not to stain any good clothes. Her muscles are taut as she braces herself. I lap at her cut. She clacks her teeth together, and really, I'll just stop there. It doesn't help that her blood is sharpening my brain until I feel invincible.

  She's feeling it, too. She puts away the single-edged razor blade in the soap dish so she can hold on. I keep my tongue moving until the handle turns on the bathroom door. Jessica pokes her face in. "You're wanted downstairs."

  I hesitate, then put Infinity's ankle down. I stand up from where I've been sitting on the toilet's lid. Jessica shuts the door again, and Infinity laughs.

  "Chaperones," she says. "Get me a bandage, would you?" I treat the cut in short order, and she stands up.

  She almost doesn't make it. I catch her as she stumbles.

  "You okay?" I blurt automatically. The last time I cut her—

  But her grip is strong. "After five bites? What do you think?"

  "I think if you're not, we've got to find another method and to hell with what Jessica says." With the mouth-to-blood contact broken, I'm coming back to normalcy, but I still feel like I should rule the dinosaurs. My perfect illusion lasts two seconds. Jess opens the door again.

  "In New York, we have a coordination test. If you fail, we lower the number of drinkers by one." As Infinity puts her pants and shirt back on, I run the shower to wash away the bloodstains. Jessica goes into schoolmarm mode.

  "Stand on one leg, arms out. Touch your nose," she orders. Infinity gamely does it. "Alternate hands. How do you feel?"

  "Like a cow leaving the milking machine, except horny. Did I pass?"

  "You've still got Deborah to go," Jessica says, considering. "She can last another three or four days. Feed her then. But I'd say you pass for now unless you have reservations."

  Infinity makes a face. "If I can turn one infection into feeding six, I'm a goddamn goddess."

  "Then, it's settled," I say. "You hunt, you drink, you come back and feed the whole family. Cass said no witnesses saw you leave with that boy, right?"

  "We ran the checklist," she confirms. "Hey, weren't you wanted downstairs?"

  Good point, but it's hard to be bothered when I'm this baked. I go down the steps. "All right, where's the fire?" The other vipes are in the living room, but instead of being all smiles having gotten their blood tonight, they look grim, Ly most of all.

  "You three having fun?" he asks.

  I take it in stride. "I could parachute from space, and my day wouldn't get better."

  To my surprise, Ly and Cass share an even darker look. It's the look of a vipe who's killed to feed and is now considering it a problem-solving tool. "Then, maybe you want to bring us into the inner circle, too?"

  I have no idea what he's talking about. My brain is still on the women upstairs and maybe some sexual jealousy thing. But that makes no sense. It must be something else.

  "It's this secrecy," Deborah clarifies. "We had to find out from Jessica that you and Infinity have new information."

  Oh. That's nothing. I smooth it over. "It's just a lead she found, a tip from a contact."

  "Someone tipped the F-prots off to us?" says Cass, and I see the problem. Of course, they'd be terrified if I held that back. Time to fix it.

  "Wait, that's not what it's about at all. If it were, all of us would be on the highway right now. No. She means she heard that there is a BRHI vipe-holding facility in the D.C. area. We were considering checking it out. I just hadn't made the announcement yet."

  "Like this is their prison for vipes?" asks Ly.

  "Prison, hospital, morgue," supplies Infinity, at my elbow and sounding like she's fighting through the fog. "When I worked in F-prot, the ones we took alive were secured and dropped off at a facility like this one."

  "So, there's a chance we could find more of us?" says Cass. "I wanna do that."

  "Is that a good thing?" asks Deborah. "I mean, more mouths to feed—"

  This is turning into chaos. I have to step in. "Hold up. We need some context here. You all know I used to associate with other vipes, right?" Nods. "I think most of them were killed, but if any were taken alive, it sounds as though this would be where they're being held. When Infinity and Jess came to me, I said I can't make this decision. We only go in with eyes open and if all of us are on board."

  "Time out," says Ferrero. "If this place is strong enough to hold vipes, I'm not thrilled at the idea of walking inside it."

  "Hey, he's talking about a rescue operation," says Cass, as if that's why he wakes up in the morning.

  "I'm s
ure the second roach to walk into a Roach Motel is doing it to save his buddy, but that doesn't help him much," Ferrero grouses. "Going in based on a rumor, that seems sketchy to me."

  "I know the source, and he doesn't have motivation to lie to us," says Jessica.

  "What about whoever fed him the information?"

  Ly steps in, raising his hands calmingly. "Okay, so we know it's a risk, but we also know it isn't safe for Jessica to testify anymore. I say we have to start thinking about solutions that aren't just legal."

  "Yeah…" Ferrero hedges. "I'm not big on crime."

  "No one is." Maybe it's the blood, but I feel that I could be talked into it tonight, and for that reason, I'd better articulate everything. "Seriously, for years my biggest fear was that I'd do something unethical by accident and get disbarred. And if you go online tonight, you can find jokes going around middle school playgrounds about whether in a blindfolded test I prefer the taste of Coke, Pepsi, or cops." The teacher glances downward. I've hit home. I continue. "Now we're stuck with a choice that isn't a real choice—we can infect or kill. But taking the lesser evil isn't where our responsibility ends. We owe those victims, and we owe all their victims. And what we can do is try to end this situation as fast as humanly possible."

  "This is way out of our league," Ferrero counters. "What's our plan? Break in, cut through some bars with a hacksaw and try not to get shot?"

  "We've got a few guns," Cass points out.

  I'm about to object, but Ferrero is faster. "Jesus Christ, that doesn't make it better! Here's a thought. We bring cameras. Upload whatever goes on in there. Give them an image problem they can't bury under a mountain of money."

  Cass is testosterone-driven but not stupid. "Okay, that sounds worthwhile, but if we're assaulting a building full of enemies, I say we shouldn't throw away any advantage. Show of hands. Who's done it? Who's broken in somewhere?" He raises his hand. "Infinity?"

  I look at her. Her arms are crossed, and she's staring off into space, but she notices me. "Yeah, I've done that," she says absently. "Morgan?"